49. CHAPTER 44
AXL
The meeting ran way fucking longer than I wanted.
The room where we met with the Sinclairs has a cell jammer, so I haven’t been able to check on Saylor.
I don’t like being away from her right now.
She’s been better since the shower, but she’s not sleeping well and she doesn’t ever want me to leave.
I don’t mind her clingy and needy for me, but I want to know why.
If it’s because she’s remembered something and isn’t telling me, I want to take care of it.
We didn’t even resolve anything at the meeting.
David and the other men are definitely not running the only trafficking operation.
I still don’t know why my dad is so hellbent on me marrying the stepdaughter of one of the men we’ve identified, but we’re looking for that connection. It has to be there.
I check my phone as I’m getting on my bike. Nothing from Saylor. I pull up the cameras in our room. “What the fuck?”
“What? What’s going on?” Priest asks climbing onto his bike beside mine.
“The cameras in my room aren’t working. Or they’re blacked out or something.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Priest asks, leaning over to look at my phone with me.
I check Saylor’s phone tracker, and she’s at the mansion. What the fuck is going on? I text her.
Me: Text me back right now and let me know you’re alright.
I pocket my phone and wait for it to vibrate while I start my bike. “I’ve got to get back.”
Priest doesn’t ask questions. He kicks his bike over and follows me.
The ride back takes fifteen minutes, and I still don’t hear from her. I call her twice. It rings and goes to voicemail both times. My chest is tight, and my hands grip the handlebars so hard to keep myself from losing control.
I know in my gut that something is fucking wrong. I don’t believe in coincidences.
I leave the bike in front of the house and run up the main entrance. Priest is right behind me. I take the stairs two at a time, and I’m down the corridor in seconds.
I punch in the code and shove the door open, making it slam into the wall.
“Saylor?”
My eyes settle right on her, and my blood goes cold. She’s on her back on our bed. One arm at her side and one above her head. Her phone is next to her hand. She’s wearing my hoodie and a pair of cotton shorts. Her eyes are closed, and her face is pale. I can’t tell if she’s breathing.
“No.”
There’s a pill bottle on the nightstand. It’s empty and laying by a whiskey bottle that’s almost empty.
I’m on the bed in a second. I grab her face with both hands. Her breathing is barely there, and I’m not sure if I’m imagining that she’s breathing at all.
“Baby, please. Open your eyes.” I tap her cheek. Nothing. I slap her face. “Baby, I need you to look at me.”
She doesn’t move. Her chest is barely rising. “FUCK! Baby, no. Don’t fucking do this.”
“Priest,” I snap. I don’t recognize my own voice. “Get Dane on the phone. Get the doctor. Right fucking now.”
Priest is already in the doorway with his phone to his ear. I tilt her head back and pinch her nose and press my mouth to hers. I breathe everything I have into her. She can have every bit of air from my body. Her chest rises and falls. I do it again.
“Come on, Saylor. Fucking breathe for me. Show me those pretty eyes.”
I press my ear to her chest. Her heartbeat is there, but it’s slow. It’s too fucking slow. I don’t know how many she took. I breathe into her again. My hands are shaking so bad I can barely hold her face steady.
“You don’t get to do this.” I’m talking to her like she can hear me, because she fucking has to hear me. “You’re mine.” I choke on the last word. “Baby, please.”
Her head rolls to the side, and there’s a faint sound. I don’t know how long she has. She needs fucking help.
“That’s it, baby. Stay with me.” I pull her into my lap and hold her against my chest. Her head falls against my shoulder, and her arm hangs limp. “I’m right here. I’m right fucking here, little heathen.”
I brush her hair out of her face. “You’d better come to me, baby, or you’re taking me with you.” My cheeks are wet, and my throat is closing up. “Saylor, please.”
“Dane’s men are on their way.” Priest grabs my shoulder and makes me jump. “They’re bringing a transport to take her to the usual spot.”
I stand up, cradling her in my arms. I can get her there faster.
“Axl, what are you doing?”
“I’m not waiting.” I carry her toward the door. Her head lolls against my chest, and her arm swings. I hold her tighter. “She doesn’t have time for a fucking transport.”
“Axl.” Priest blocks the doorway. He doesn’t put his hands on me, but he’s not moving. “You can’t drive. You keep giving her air. Let me do this for you.”
He’s right, and I hate him for it. I hate that I can’t do everything at once. I hate that I’m holding my girl and she’s fucking dying in my arms.
“Then fucking move.”
Priest grabs the keys to my G-Wagon off the counter, and I follow him down the corridor. Saylor’s arm swings with every step, and her fingers brush against my thigh. I keep looking down at her face waiting for her eyes to open.
I lean forward while I walk and push more air into her mouth. I have to keep her breathing.
My girl wouldn’t do this. She wouldn’t end it all like this. She wouldn’t leave me.
We climb into my SUV, and I hold her in my lap in the passenger seat. Her head is against my chest, and I tilt her chin up to keep her airway open.
“Go. Fucking go.”
Priest floors it out of the lot. I press my mouth to hers again and breathe. Her chest rises. I count to three and do it again. The only thing keeping me going is knowing that I’m breathing for the both of us right now.
We speed down the road. Priest picks up his phone and calls Dane again to tell him that we’re coming to them. The Sinclairs have their own private medical facility with staff at the ready. They have helped patch most of us up when we don’t want the media or cops to find out about the work we do.
Priest glances over at Saylor and then me as he drives. “How long do you think she’s been out?” His tone isn’t optimistic, and I want to punch him in the fucking face.
“I don’t fucking know.” I kiss her forehead. “Stay with me, baby.”
We’re still a few minutes away. I place my hand on her chest, and I don’t feel any movement.
“No. No, no, goddamnit, no.” I tilt her head back and breathe into her again. Harder this time. “Saylor, don’t you fucking quit on me.”
Nothing. Her chest doesn’t move on its own.
I breathe into her again. I press my hand against her chest and push as best as I can in this position. I don’t know if I’m doing this right anymore. I don’t give a fuck. I’ll break her ribs if it keeps her heart beating.
“Priest, drive fucking faster.”
“I’m doing over a hundred, Axl.”
I push on her chest again and breathe into her, and I realize that tears are falling from my eyes onto her skin.
Fuck. I wipe them off her cheek with my thumb.
Her skin is so cold. My girl is always so fucking warm curled against me.
She runs hot when she sleeps and kicks the covers off until her feet are cold, and then she presses her freezing feet against my legs to warm them again.
I always let her. And I’ll let her do anything she wants for the rest of our lives if she just opens her fucking eyes.
“Please, baby.” My forehead is pressed against hers. “Fight, Saylor. Just fight for me.”
We pull up to the building, and I’m out of the SUV before Priest comes to a complete stop, running through the doors and holding her against my body.
“I need help. Please. Fucking please help her.” I’m shouting at the first person I see. “Somebody fucking help her.”
Two men in scrubs meet me in the hallway. One of them tries to take her from me, and I almost swing on him before Priest grabs my arm.
“Let them work, Axl. You have to let them take her.”
I don’t want to let go. Every part of me is screaming to hold onto her, to keep her safe. I fucking left her for that fucking meeting and look what happened. I should have been there for her.
“Axl,” Priest shouts again.
I shake it off and lay her on the gurney as they wheel her through a set of double doors. I try to follow, and one of the men presses his palm against my chest to push me back. “You have to wait here.”
“Get your fucking hand off me.” I grab the man’s wrist, but Priest is already pulling me back.
“Axl.” Priest’s voice is calm. “Let them try to save her. That’s what they’re here to do.”
“Quit talking like there’s a chance she’s not going to fucking make it,” I shout, shoving him back against a wall.
Priest doesn’t fight back. He lets me pin him, and he stares at me.
There isn’t anger in his eyes, only sympathy, which pisses me off more.
“Go on, brother. If you need to hit me, you hit me. Take it all out on me. Get it out now, because whatever happens, she’s going to need you to keep it together. ”
I let go of him. I run my fingers through my hair like I might be able to calm myself, and then I drive my fist into the stone wall beside Priest. I do it again and again, alternating hands.
I treat the wall like my own fucking punching bag until both my hands are bloody.
Then I draw a deep breath and go again. “God fucking dammit.”
“Axl,” Priest finally shouts, grabbing me from behind to try to pin my arms.
I fight him for a second. My arms are pinned, and my knuckles are shredded, and the pain is the only thing keeping me from losing my mind completely.
It’s my fucking fault she’s in there. She didn’t want me to leave her.
I never should have left her alone. The one thing I was put on this earth to do was to take care of that woman in there, and now she’s fighting for her fucking life.
“Stop.” Priest has me locked. “You’re done now. Let’s get your hands taken care of so you’re ready to be there for her when she wakes up.”
I stop fighting him. My chest is heaving, and my blood is dripping onto the tile floor. I stare at the red streaks of my blood on the white wall.
He lets me go and motions for one of the men in scrubs to clean my cuts.
“She wouldn’t do this.” I say holding out my hands while the man cleans the blood. “I fucking know she wouldn’t. Someone did this to her.”
Priest leans against the wall beside me and crosses his arms. He’s watching the doors. “It doesn’t make sense that the cameras would be out.”
“Her hair was done and her nails.” I wince as the guy wraps my knuckles.
“Like she went to a salon, Priest. They weren’t like that when I left.
Pull my phone out of my pocket and check her tracker.
I’d bet anything she left today. Why would she go get her hair and nails done just to swallow a bottle of pills. ”
Priest does as I said and takes my phone. He scrolls through it while I stare at the doors, waiting for word that my girl is alright.
“Fuck.”
My head snaps toward him. “What? What the fuck is it?”
“You’re right that she did go to a salon. After she went to her parents’ house.”
Why in the fuck would she go there?
“I have her phone too.” I nod to my other pocket. “Her code is 5464.” I had set that on her phone when she moved in—KING. I’ve never once checked her phone before, other than when I installed the tracker I have for her location, but I wanted her to always think of me when she used her phone.
I close my eyes, swallowing hard to hold back the urge of going another round with the fucking wall.
“Axl,” Priest catches my attention. “You’re going to need to see this. There’s a video.”
I jerk my hands from the nurse and take the phone from Priest. Her gorgeous face is on the screen. I make sure the volume is up, and then I press play.
She’s crying. Then I hear her sweet voice.
“I’m sorry, Axl.” My heart is racing as I brace myself for what she’s going to say.
“The nightmares won’t stop. I can’t sleep and I can’t—” She swallows hard and closes her eyes to draw a breath.
“I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry, Axl.
I love you. I should have told you that before now.
But this . . . it’s too much. Please don’t—” She lets out a small sob. “Please don’t blame yourself.”
Then it ends.
“NO!” I shout, forcing myself not to throw her phone since I’m not done with that video. “This can’t be real.”
“Axl,” Priest gives me a look of sympathy, like I’m too separated from reality to accept what is right in front of me.
Fuck him. Fuck everyone. I know my girl. I walk away and start the video again. Then I watch it five more times, looking for anything to explain why she would record this.
There it is. There’s something in her eyes. She’s crying and scared, but I know she’s trying to tell me something without saying it. “Someone made her record this.” I hold the phone up to Priest. “Right there, she looks past the camera, like she’s looking at someone.”
Priest takes the phone and watches it. His jaw tightens. He watches it again. “I see it.”
The double doors open, and a man in scrubs steps out, pulling his gloves off. I’m across the hallway before he takes a second step.
“Is she alive?”
He frowns and takes his cap off, wringing it in his hands.
I’m about to snap his goddamn neck if he hasn’t fucking saved my girl.
Then Priest is going to have to put a bullet in my head if he wants to stop me from raining fire on everyone, because a world without Saylor is my fucking hell. And I’ll make it everyone else’s too.